Captain Hirstâs Virgin Bride The room was suddenly silent, all hinged upon the turn of a card. Lord Cashmire watched intently as I turned over my last card. An Ace. The colour drained from his face. âBut you were bluffing, the nerve on your neckâ he stammered. âNerves my Lord,â I assured him, âJust nerves, you may well have had a superior hand. âMy God Cashers, youâve lost it all!â Bunty Buntingthorpe exclaimed. I looked around as Mallinson acting as server, or Croupier as the frenchies have it, pushed the immense pile of chips and Cashmireâs note towards me. I was...
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